


Arranged

by occasionalfics



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 09:10:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17056931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/occasionalfics/pseuds/occasionalfics
Summary: Thor’s not happy about being forced into an arranged marriage.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted @ occasionalfics.tumblr.com in August 2018

You stared at your new husband as he paced the room. The gilded walls behind him did nothing to suppress the anger in his features, nor the tension in his shoulders. He looked everywhere but at you, though your eyes never left him.

“Come to bed, please,” you pled. “We’ll make sense of this in the morning.”

Thor shook his head. “I won’t,” he growled. “I won’t concede.”

“Have you not already, my Prince?” you asked, shifting to the side of the bed closest to his track. “You gave me your word before the Allfather. Does that mean nothing?”

“No,” he whispered, as if half in answer and half in thought.

It took you back. You stared blankly, blinking as he continued without noticing. You sat back, allowing his hushed word and its implications to sink in.

If you did not consummate this marriage, it would be a sham. There would be no heirs, no line of succession, no legitimacy or honor for your name and family. You’d both known all along. You’d sworn your fealty, loyalty, and love to Thor, and he had done the same. And yet, he stood before you now with no concern for any of it.

“I will find a way back to Midgard,” he mumbled. “To Jane.” He stopped his march, caught your eyes, and nodded. “Back to Jane.”

Jane. His _human_. The Earth girl with a genius mind for the physics of space. You were well aware of his preoccupation with Jane, but he had sworn to you. He was meant to forget Jane, to be yours alone. He was meant to make you his Queen, the mother of his children, his heart and soul.

But he couldn’t if Jane was still a piece of his puzzle.

You wanted to reach for him, to assure him that there would never be a tryst between himself and Jane from Earth. You were his, undeniably and unwaveringly. You were his wife now, not just a Princess of Vanaheim. You were the Duchess of Asgard, in line to be Queen when Thor ascended to the throne.

Still, you watched him closely and felt your heart break. You’d been waiting your whole life for the time to come when you’d marry the Golden Prince. He was magnificent and wonderful - but he was also cruel without knowing it. You pushed yourself back across the bed and stood, hoping one last effort might sway him.

If you did not lay with him this night, you knew he would not lay with you any other night. He’d follow his own ambition to return to Midgard, to Jane.

You let the straps of your soft, weightless dress fall from your shoulders. The material lowered along your torso, exposing your breasts and stomach with little effort. The whole thing caught on your hips, but you hoped that would be enough.

“Please, my Prince,” you said quietly. “Allow our marriage bed to serve its purpose.”

He held still for a few minutes, staring at your half-naked body while he fought the thoughts in his head. You reached to the back of the dress and undid the already loose ties, which allowed the rest of the garment to fall to the ground. It pooled around your feet, leaving you entirely bare. You climbed back onto the bed and crawled to him on your knees.

His defense faltered as you neared. Thor let out a long sigh and tentatively reached a hand for your side. His palm was warm and rough, and you loved it, as you were meant to.

“I am your wife, my Prince. I know we do not share a love yet, but perhaps we will.” You put a hand on his shoulder and felt him shiver. “If you’ll allow it, I would like us to consummate our vows.”

You saw your words echo in his eyes, sinking in deep as you waited for a response. He did not brush you off or away, so you became brave. You traced his glorious body, moving your fingers like feathers along his skin. He was somehow soft and hard, scarred and smooth. His body was the sun, his eyes were the moon.

It would be too easy for you to fall for him. You wanted the same opportunity for him to fall for you. You wanted to be unending like the ocean but stable like the sand. You wanted him desperate for you like air in his lungs after he’s held his breath from swimming in your depths. You wanted him to lean on you, to allow you to bear some of the weight of the realms he carried.

After all, you were his wife now.

Your fingertips graced his jaw and your lips barely ghosted over his before he stood back on his heels. “I cannot,” he whispered, his eyes falling to the golden floor below you. “I made a promise before today, to a woman on Earth who’s expecting me to return to her.”

“By rights, she cannot have you,” you whispered. You meant no malice towards the Earth girl Jane. You were not jealous. She was not your competition. There was only pity in your heart for her; pity because you were right, and she could not have Thor now.

He would learn. Perhaps he didn’t think so, as his large hand wrapped around your wrist that elongated into fine fingers on his cheek. He did not pull you off. He did nothing else at first, but after a few beats, he pulled you closer to him, pressing your bodies together. You gasped in surprise.

“I must tell her, at the very least,” he said, his voice cracking. You could nearly feel his resolve crumbling, and when you met his eyes, you felt the electricity that rumbled through his body.

You nodded. “Of course, my Prince. I know you will be easy with her. But remember,” you told him, feeling braver and stronger as his hand stayed on your wrist and his eyes kept yours in their wake. “She is mortal. She will continue her life on Midgard without you. One day, she will find happiness again.”

“You would allow me to return to her?” he asked, brow furrowed into a harsh line of disbelief.

“Just once,” you whispered. “For her sake, and for yours. I must be made clear, my Prince. I do not aim to be your prison keeper. I’m your wife. I know what that means here.”

It meant that you were his equal. The only person more powerful than their spouse in Asgard was Odin, as Allfather, though even Queen Frigga had comparable power and sway. “I would not keep you from her if you did not pledge yourself to me mere hours ago.” Your fingers on his cheek stroked gently, pushing against his beard in slow circles.

“You bear her no ill will for loving me before you?” he asked again, surprise still etched in every line of his glorious face.

You shook your head, a small smile putting itself on your face. “I have loved before you as well. I know the pain of choosing duty over this.” You placed your free hand on his heart and nearly purred at the shiver that overtook him. “Jane of Midgard has done me no wrong. She’s only prepared your heart for mine. And, if you would allow me to do so, I would like to thank her for it.”

His features softened at each of your words, but ultimately, he shook his head. “I don’t think that would be wise, wife.” There was no hint of anger in his voice. For that, you were just as grateful. “She never knew of our betrothal. She is strong for a mortal, but perhaps not strong enough to see the woman she’s lost me to.”

For a moment, you studied his face, attempting to suss the mix of emotions between the crinkles around his eyes and his words. But then he turned his head until his lips met the palm of your hand that had been against his cheek. He left a soft, bristly kiss there, then dropped his hand from your wrist to grip your waist.

You did not fancy Thor in love with you after one conversation. You were not in love with him, either, though you could easily see yourself falling for him over time. As Princess of Vanaheim and Asgard, you had duties to your new husband and people. Duties that the Midgardian woman would never be able to fulfill, no matter how strong she was. He simply needed to see as much.

Finally, though, it seemed he realized what you’d known all along: that though you did not yet love one another, you also did not have to resent one another. Fondness, tenderness, understanding and compassion - all mixed in your core and in his eyes as you both knew what needed to be done.

You nodded, just once, and told him, “Send my message for me, then. And when you return to me, take heart knowing that I will work to mend yours, if you’ll accept me.” You pressed forward, lips still barely touching his, and sighed when he did not push or pull away. “I do not expect your feelings to go away overnight. Only a monster would. I do expect, as your wife, princess, and future queen, to be loyal to you and the realm, and to give you heirs.”

He shook as he breathed then, as if something ailed him. His hands on your body tightened, and his eyes shut.

“Is everything alright, my Prince?” you asked, relieved only when he nodded.

“Yes,” he shuddered. “But they will be your heirs as well.”

A heat stirred within you and spread in two directions. Part moved up into your chest, filling you with ease and affection. Part moved down, swirling into arousal between your legs.

“Of course,” you whispered. “And they will know, one day, that though life is not always fair, love can always be found with patience and companionship.”

His forehead came to rest on yours, and you allowed him a few moments of peaceful, intimate quiet. His hands never left you, nor did yours leave him. You felt as though days had passed, rather than mere moments. This was no longer the hardened, defeated Prince who had ignored you through most of your wedding feast.

This was a man, desperate to calm the storm in his mind. This was someone who knew betrayal of trust would irreparably break what he had with a woman he knew and maybe even love. But he was the same man that knew the woman before him was his future. Neither of you particularly cared for the lack of choice in the matter, but there was no fighting what had been done on that day.

“I will leave tomorrow,” he whispered. “But I’ll make haste.” He let out another shaky breath, and you dared to snake your hands around his middle. “I would hate to keep my wife and future queen waiting, no matter how patient she is.”

A larger, more natural smile spread over your features. You tipped your head up, angling your lips closer to his once more. “May I?” you whispered, knowing that once this bridge was breached, there was no crossing back. You were ready. You simply wanted to make certain that Thor was, too.

His only answer was the press of his lips on yours. And what a press it was - not shaky like his breaths at all, but strong and sure and, dare you say, _grateful_.


	2. Golden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After you gave him permission to see his Midgardian friends (the not-Avengers friends), Thor returns to Asgard, apparently ready to accept his place at your side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted @ occasionalfics.tumblr.com in October 2018

Thor had planned on going to Midgard sooner, but you watched your Golden Prince leave less than a week after the wedding. As you waited for him to return, you stayed close to Queen Frigga. You learned her trade as Queen, watched on as the Allfather ruled the kingdom but answered only to her. The more you observed, the more you wanted what you saw, only…different.

You’d heard of Thor’s delicate side. From Frigga especially, who told you of his care for Prince Loki, and the treatment of his friends as family. But you’d also seen on it on his face in your shared chambers that first night, when you offered him the opportunity to say goodbye to the mortal girl. The way his face had softened as he accepted fate, knowing he’d been dealt a generous card from the one woman who, if she were anyone _but_ you, would have denied him - that kept you optimistic the longer he was gone.

Before bed every night, you went out to the Bifrost and asked Heimdall of Thor’s wellbeing. “I promise I’m not attempting to spy,” you said. “I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

Heimdall did not even look at you that final night. He gazed out at the stars, instead, though you’d grown used to that. “He’s preparing for his return.”

//

You were made to wait in the throne room with the royal family - at Odin’s side, since Prince Loki sat beside Frigga - even though you wanted nothing more than to run the length of the Bifrost and meet Thor halfway. You wanted to skip the formalities of watching your husband return, to go straight to your chambers and be with him, but that was all just beyond your reach, though growing closer.

When he came into the throne room, his eyes met yours and never left. Odin kept the reunion short, thankfully, simply reciting news of the realms in the time Thor’d been away and reporting what would be expected of him in the coming days.

And when that was adjourned, you bid the Allfather goodbye and stepped down from the heightened throne. Thor took two long strides and met you at the base of the steps, his huge, warm hands wrapping themselves around your elbows.

“How is she?” you asked, smiling gently, taking Thor by surprise.

A few emotions sparked across his face - sadness, elation, curiosity - but he settled on something close to _comfort_ before answering. “She’s doing well. Sad, but not surprised or disappointed, I think.” Thor took a glance around the room, then brought you closer to him, your hands resting on the rough leather chest plate he wore. “And how are you, my wife?”

The name caught you off guard, even though it was your title. One of them. It made your heart melt a little, whenever he showed you he was coming around to your marriage. You moved your hands up to his neck, gently holding on and smiling when he didn’t pull away.

Not that he had in some time. Still, he’d been gone for almost a week, and your instinct was to be cautious until you were sure of where you stood with him.

“I’m well, husband,” you said softly to him. “Grateful you’re home safe again.” Your fingers tangled in the ends of his golden hair. “I’ve missed you.”

And you had. Even though you and he spent so little time together before he left, that small window gave you enough time to know him. To start to know him, anyway. What you’d learned, you liked, and you thought he felt the same.

As he pressed his forehead against yours, you felt confirmed in that confidence.

“You’d think the two of you have been separated for a century or something,” Prince Loki called, stepping out and around your embrace. You hardly paid him any mind, but his chide pulled Thor’s attention from you.

“I’ll make no apologies for missing my wife as I have,” Thor sounded, turning his head as Loki made his way from the room.

You felt yourself smile widely, though no one was looking to see. That didn’t matter so much; it was his response that truly warmed you from the inside out. “You missed me?” you asked him as Loki turned from the room entirely.

With his eyes back on yours, Thor nodded eagerly. “Of course I did,” he breathed. “I thought only of you while I was gone.”

That had you stop, made your face fall just enough for him to notice. Not three weeks ago, Thor hated the sight of you, or at least acted as though he did. Neither of you knew one another, and your marriage had been arranged without consent from either of you. You didn’t blame him for his hesitation to accept his fate, even now, but that did not mean that you were in love.

You would not fool yourself to believe that Thor had fallen for you in such a small amount of time. You could wish, in your wildest fantasies, that love worked in such ways, but you knew that it didn’t. So hearing that you were the only thing on his mind put you out of ease. You wanted to trust him, truthfully, but you wondered if he was merely saying things like that for _your_ sake. To please you, or perhaps to show his gratitude for your support in his Midgardian endeavor.

But he didn’t accuse you of not believing or trusting in him, even as his expression matched yours in confusion. He simply dropped his arms, took one of your hands in his from his neck, and led you from the room. “Come,” he said, “it’s time we were alone.”

You went with him through the grand, golden halls of Asgard, stopping only once you’d reached your shared chambers. The bed looked as if there had never been a missing body beneath its sheets at all.

You went to the basin across the room, pulled two goblets from the cabinet above, and poured dark, fragrant wine. When you brought it to Thor, he smiled and put one of his hands on your lower back.

“So,” you started while he sipped, “what did you tell your Midgardian friends?” You were merely curious, since you hadn’t asked Heimdall the same question. You weren’t sure he would’ve given you a direct answer even if you had.

“The truth.” He shrugged, and you watched him over the brim of your goblet. “That I’d been gone too long, and that I’ve been married.”

“What did you say of me?” Again, you were far too curious for your own good. You tucked hair behind his ear, just to reassure him that you were not looking to indict him for anything or to unfairly judge his friends.

His smile softened, though it hadn’t been particularly hard before. “I spoke highly of your generosity, for one thing. And that I feel grateful that, if I wasn’t given the choice to pick a wife for myself, I’m glad my parents chose you.”

You lowered your goblet and nodded. You’d known all your life what it would mean to please the Allfather, to be chosen to marry his Golden Prince. But before your wedding, you’d only given brief, fleeting thought to the possibility that the famed Golden Prince would be kind, affectionate, and honest. That he would care for you, even without knowing you.

You knew you were lucky to be standing with him as you were now. But you didn’t know how to show your gratitude except to say, “I am sorry that you weren’t given a choice.”

He sighed and said, “I know. But it is neither of our faults.” Without finishing what was in his cup, he put the goblet on a side table and engulfed you once more. “I mean it when I say I feel grateful to have been given to you. Not many people in our positions are lucky enough to give their hands and hearts to someone so willing to allow them time to grieve what they’ve lost.”

Slowly, as if it wasn’t really happening, your face fell. You weren’t disappointed with what Thor had said, but, for just a moment, you thought of yourself. You’d given Thor the chance to reconcile his past with his present and future, but you hadn’t been given the same opportunity - nor did you think Thor would give it to you without asking.

And he might, if you wanted that chance. You didn’t know if you did.

“What is it, (Y/N)?” Thor asked, using your name in a rare moment of concern. Real, true concern.

You relaxed and shook your head. “Not a thing,” you said. “I’m just relieved to have you back in good spirits.”

You finished off your wine before Thor gently took your goblet, placing it beside his own. Like he had earlier, he put his forehead against yours and shut his eyes, appearing to take in your essence with his own.

“I missed you more than I can say,” he told you. And then, not for the first time that day, he took you by surprise, kissing you so softly you lost your balance. His warm arms held you close, and yours went around his neck. He lifted you easily, your slippers falling from your toes as he walked you to the bed.

Soft sheets felt like clouds, partially because Thor held you suspended a few centimeters above the mattress. Like you were fragile, delicate. You almost let yourself wonder if this was how he held Jane, but there was no need to ruin your mood now. Not with his lips trailing over _your_ skin, leaving wet tracks from _your_ lips, along _your_ jaw, and down _your_ neck.

Nothing mattered besides you and him and that bed. He was your husband - no one else had a claim to him any longer. He’d come back to you, was practically worshiping you now. You arched at the thought.

You’d had a few nights with him between the wedding and his departure, but none of them felt like this. The first night was full of melancholy and slow exploration. The second was more relaxed. The third, all fun and games.

But this was tantalizing and sultry. His lips burned your skin - deliciously - and his hands kneaded your thighs through your dress as if he’d never touched anything quite as divine. You ran your fingers through his hair, gliding along his scalp in long stripes, eliciting soft sighs between kisses.

You were the one who would get to bring about those sounds for eternity. From here on out, yours was the only touch that could crumble the steady wall of a prince into rubble at your feet. Not that you planned on destruction with him - quite the opposite, actually. You wanted to build _more_ with him, but the imagery of the wall falling gave you confidence enough to push him over until you straddled his thick thighs.

Pulling on the straps, you brought your dress up and over your head with ease. Its few, silken layers fluttered to the floor as if it were made of soft leaves. Thor sat up from beneath you, never breaking eye contact as he, too, undressed.

From the very first time you laid eyes on him, you knew why people called him the Golden Prince. Everything about him shone, as if a sun constantly reigned over him. He was all smooth, defined edges, warmth, brightness, and security. And he looked at you with reverence, as if you even came close to comparing.

He deserved to be exalted. That was the only thought you had while you slid off his lap and onto the ground beside the bed. Thor reached for you, attempted to stop you, but you kept going until you were kneeling between his shins.

“The future queen should kneel for no one,” he whispered.

You untied his trousers, pulling them off with the slightest aid from him. Like he had, you kept eye contact and told him, “You’re wrong. The future queen may kneel for anyone she chooses.” You didn’t know which title of his sounded better: _The future king. My husband. The glorious persona of sun and storms_. So you said none of them, simply peeling his trousers from his body, throwing them to the floor, and sliding your palms along his thighs. He took in a sharp breath when your palms wrapped around his length.

Lowering your lips around him, you teased the slit and stroked your first up. He let out a guttural, low groan and threw his head back, one hand supporting his weight on the bed while the other pressed against what he could reach of your face. You continued you work, shivering between the jerks of his hips and the absolutely sinful sounds he let out. You took as much of him in as you could, though he was both long and wide and had you gagging just beyond half of him.

The way his thighs tightened below your elbows thrilled you. His breathing became uneven, his chest expanding and falling rapidly. And then his hand went to the back of your neck, and slowly, he guided you off of him.

You looked up at him with confusion written all over your expression. “Is everything alright?” you asked him, lips dripping with saliva and precum, just as his member did.

Thor caught his breath and nodded like his life depended on it. “Y-yes, (Y/N).” He smiled as he said your name, and you smiled, too, feeling yourself grow wet at the satisfaction that filled you. “But I’m not finished with you. Come here.” He nodded back, then let you go to push himself further onto the bed.

You stood and followed him, crawling across the sheets. When he could reach you, he gripped your hips and, with little effort, turned to place you below him once more. You gave a small yip in surprise, but found you could only laugh after.

Though you’d loved before Thor, it was only with him that you _laughed_ in bed. He was so enthusiastic after the first night, so quick to find the things you liked while being open and optimistic. He gave you every reason to smile. Laughter came just as easily.

His lips and hands were soft but quick, never pressing too hard as they moved all over your exposed body. He devoured you as if he’d really missed you, as if he had been gone much longer than he had. You sighed contentedly, knowing deep within that, no matter how little you’d known one another before your wedding, you could absolutely live with a lover like Thor.

And just as rushed, he was between your thighs, his tongue working in a straight line from your entrance to clit. In your mix of thoughts, you missed him putting your legs over his shoulders, but the view you had now was simply _divine_ : The Golden Prince, Asgard’s pride and joy, with his lips around your mound, licking so expertly you’d believe him if he told you he’d never had a meal so perfect.

You keened and arched as he took his time to work you up. Your body responded to his movements naturally, without thought. Pleasure took over, tightening your core and pushing your hips closer to him as your thighs attempted to close around his head. For some time, his palms explored your breasts and sides, but soon you needed to hold him - touch him - anything. You grasped his hands in yours, allowing him to control where he touched while you held on.

He waited until you’d reached a point similar to the one he’d reached - your breathing ragged, muscles tense and pulsating around him - before releasing you. His teeth bit into the soft flesh of your thigh while you whined for him, your hand squeezing his in protest.

“Please- Thor,” you begged, still arched to force yourself closer to him.

“Tell me, wife,” he said, “what do you need?”

The moan that escaped your throat could only be described as animalistic. It seemed to reverberate around the room, or else that was a premature shiver of an orgasm you felt.

“You,” you answered. “Mine. You.” Your voice and mouth worked without your say so, but you didn’t care. You just needed to feel Thor - all of him - everywhere.

Later, you would think of this moment fondly. The moment when you and Thor were no longer trying to fit pieces of an odd puzzle together on someone else’s demand. The moment when Thor left a harsh but welcome kiss on your clit before releasing your hands to grip your waist. He turned you over once more, shifted behind you, and pulled you back to him by your hips. He let out a soft groan, then ran his cockhead through your wetness, his free hand rubbing small circles into your hip.

“Say it again,” he requested, though not aggressively. He sounded far more desperate than demanding.

“I need you,” you whispered, turning your face to see him over your shoulder. “Mine. You.” You bit your lip as he sunk into your heat.

“No,” he said, “let me hear you.” Slowly, to both move and give you time to adjust to him, he eased his hips away from you.

You didn’t let your lip go until you absolutely could not keep a moan from escaping any longer. He pushed in once more, his mouth hanging open as your body took him. This time he did wait for you to adjust, and with your nod of approval, he finally set a slow and steady pace. His cock dragged through your walls, filling you so well that you already saw stars.

When you needed more of him, you called his name. His eyes found yours, but he made no other sign of recognition. So you told him, “More.”

He didn’t even stop to consider your voice in his ears. He leaned over you, threw one arm around your middle and another across your chest, then pulled you back with him. His warmth filled your body from back to front as he pushed and pulled in and out of you, his lips nipping at your ears and neck as your hands found their favorite place - tucked between the strands of his hair. His hand across your chest played and pulled with your nipples, now sensitive and peaked with very little attention paid to them before now.

It wasn’t long before you felt your body climb again. His moans filled the space around you, his hot breath all over your skin, fueling you as neared your climax. His hand around your middle snaked its way down until his fingers found your clit, and you yelled out his name upon the impact of his pads against your sensitive nub.

You knew he was close, too, when his pace became brutal - almost too much to handle. Almost. The only thing falling from his lips was your name in rushed, desperate gasps. Between the pride of that knowledge, his fingers expertly working you, and his length reaching your sweet spot easily, you came apart around him without warning. Your grip on his hair tightened, your hips met his quicker and rougher than before, and you yelled out praise for him as your core squeezed around his length.

In no time at all, he came as well, biting deep into your shoulder as hot streaks of his cum filled you. You winced at the pain of his bite, though you reveled in the way your skin pulsed when he kissed the spot.

In an exhausted heap, you and Thor fell onto the sheets together, still tangled in one another. It took you several minutes to catch your breath, and another few for him to gently pull out of you and roll himself over. You turned onto your back and pushed your body as close to his as you could get.

You’d always known you needed the closeness of a partner in the aftermath of sex. That had been one of the list of things that gave you anxiety about marrying a stranger, even if he was the Golden Prince. But then you’d found out, upon that first night, that Thor also craved the intimate touch of a lover post-coitous. That was the first moment you knew that, even if you never fell in love with him, you could at least live happily and satisfied. You’d decided then that you would do what needed to be done for the realm, even if your role did turn out to be nothing more than a political move.

Now, though, you were certain you’d get more. As you looked on him, sweat-soaked and still breathing heavier than usual, you could imagine a future where you did love one another. Where you were partners in ruling the kingdom, in raising golden children and equals in lovemaking and passion. Perhaps you weren’t there yet, and perhaps you wouldn’t get to that place sooner rather than later, but at least it was a possibility. A thing to hope for.

Without words, Thor confirmed that hope when he gripped your ankle and pulled your leg over one of his. Tangled in one another again, you smiled and held onto his middle for dear life.

“You really did miss me then?” you asked quietly.

He chuckled, his chest shaking against you. “I did. And did you miss me?”

When you made eye contact with him again, you thought _Anyone would be a fool not to miss you_. But you just nodded and kissed the skin closest to you - the top of his chest. “Of course,” you whispered, shutting your eyes for a brief nap. Though you’d only gone one round with him so far, you also hadn’t been separated from him since the wedding until he’d gone to Midgard.

You were planning on at least another two rounds before the sun set on that day.


End file.
